What Was Before
by dizzy25
Summary: A tragic event from Ryan's past is coming back to haunt him. Can the Cohens help him through it or will Ryan's actions seperate him from his new family? RR please!
1. Default Chapter

Yes, I know that this is incredibly short, but I don't have a whole lot of time to do this at the moment. So bear with me here...Thanx. -Dizzy  
  
Summary: It's the two-year anniversary of something that Ryan's tried for a long time to forget. He deals with it the way he always has, but what happens when Sandy doesn't approve of what he's doing. Ryan's given a choice between opening up to Sandy and therapy. How far will Ryan go to keep the past in the past?  
  
Disclaimer: I own Janine and Tory, but not much else. I wish I owned the OC especially Ben McKenzie and Adam Brody, but you don't always get what you wish for in the cruel, cruel world... NO FLAMES PLEASE. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM I CAN TAKE, BUT IF YOU HATE IT THAT MUCH, DON'T EVEN BOTHER TO REVIEW IT... :)  
  
'Beautiful, twisted and beautiful, wasted and miserable. Take it away!' -Lucky Boy's Confusion  
  
Who is Ryan Atwood? Even he doesn't know for sure anymore. He's someone different to everyone. He's Sandy's protégé. Seth's best friend. Marissa's ex-guy to dump problems on. He doesn't even know what he is to Kirsten. To Luke he's a guy to lean on when no one else is there. To his mom he was always a burden, something to be put up with and resented. To her boyfriends, he was a punching bag. To Trey, well, he hasn't seen Trey since Thanksgiving, but he's pretty sure that it doesn't even matter what he is to Trey anymore. It was so much easier when he lived in Chino. So maybe he smoked and drank too much there. Maybe he did do some drugs there. Maybe he had too much sex with too many different girls, but that didn't mean it wasn't easier. He might have made a lot of mistakes in Chino, but that was part of life. You can't screw up in Newport. If you do, they send you to therapy, which is everyone's solution to everything there. Life in Chino was what it was. Life in Newport is full of hidden twists. In Chino, if you were pissed at a guy, you could just have it out with him in the street and that was that. Win or lose, it was simple and no one did it any differently. Here, in Newport, if you're pissed, it becomes something huge, something much bigger than you are. His feud with Luke when he first moved to Newport was a huge thing for a while. It was so insanely huge that even all the parents of the people involved knew what was going on and why. In Chino, it was rare to find a mom or dad that actually cared that much. If that had happened in Chino, they would have fought it out and it would have been over, winner takes girl. Chino was full of psychos, but not psychos like Oliver who were smart too. Psychos that you ran from because they would just open fire in the middle of the street. One of the few things that Ryan didn't miss. He had gotten caught in the crossfire before, when he was 13. He took two bullets: one had hit right above his knee and the other had ripped through his side. He had only needed stitches; he'd gotten lucky. That was also the night he lost his virginity. He was barely thirteen and he'd let Janine comfort him.  
  
Ryan and Janine had been friends for as long as he and Teresa had. The only difference was that with Janine, he's always felt something special. Even when they were only 13, there'd been something there, something that Ryan would later identify as love. He'd been lying when he'd told Marissa that he'd never had a girlfriend. Janine was his first girlfriend, but after what had happened, he didn't like to think about her anymore... Sometimes, Ryan wishes he could go back to Chino. Everything was so much simpler there, but Chino brought Janine back to life for him and though he still called out for her in his sleep sometimes, that was just too much for him, especially around this time of year.  
  
How'd you like my first chappy? Please review. I'll try to update soon, but I have a pretty hectic life, so it might be a while 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I still don't own it, but I do miss it and I can't wait until the next season starts up... By the way, if you know when the new season does start, please tell me... Now, on with the story... Which, incidentally, I have no idea where I'm going with...) There's probably going to be a lot more angst in this chapter, so if you don't like angst...  
-Dizzy  
  
I'm reposting this chapter because I think I've finally found out how to fix the stupid spacing, so if it worked... Enjoy.  
  
"I can't escape the writing on the wall" -Trapt  
  
Chapter Two: Ryan was standing alone in a horribly familiar room...wait, no, he wasn't alone; there was a girl, her face shielded by a curtain of thick brown hair, sitting at a small table in the corner. She was writing on a piece of loose-leaf paper with a purple pen and Ryan could hear her crying. He wanted to walk over and comfort her, but she didn't seem to notice him, and he couldn't move. Just then, she looked up for a moment to wipe her tears away, and it was in that short moment that he caught to glimpse her face, Ryan recognized her; it was Janine. No, it couldn't be Janine; Janine was gone; she'd been gone for so long... Ryan tried in vain to call out to her, to reach out and wipe the tears from her cheeks, but he couldn't reach, she was too far away and no matter how loud he called her name, she didn't seem to hear.  
  
Ryan didn't need to see the paper to know what was being written on it. He had memorized the words the first time he'd read the note two years ago. By the time he'd found the note, read it, and got to her house, it'd been too late; he'd been too late. If only he'd found it sooner, if only he'd gotten there in time, but no... no... he had been too late; he had failed.  
  
All of the sudden, the words from the note appeared, scrawled in purple ink on the chalky white walls of the room. They spread, like a deadly virus, quickly filling every corner, every wall, every inch of space in the room. Ryan was trapped, surrounded by the written proof of his own failure. There was no escaping the words and he could hardly stand the torture. He tried to shut his eyes, to somehow block everything out, but once again, found that he was incapable. There was nothing he could do. He deserved it though; he had failed; he was a failure. She had been one of the few things that he'd loved in his life before Newport, but he'd let her slip away...  
  
Ryan could only watch in shock as Janine sealed the note and then rose, as if she was suddenly aware of his presence. Only, it wasn't her... well, it was, but there was something different, something...off... about her. She approached him slowly, as if teasing him, as if knowing that he couldn't move. There was a cruel look in her green eyes and her mouth was twisted into a frown; there was no trace of the tears that had, only moments before, been falling. When she was finally standing next to him, she reached up and ran her long fingers through his sandy blond hair, ruffling it gently, lovingly at first, but then yanking it, hard. He would have cried out in pain if he could have, but he was still unable to make sounds; it was as if his voice box had been ripped out.  
  
"Ryan Atwood." She hissed as she tugged on his hair. "Look what you did to me. You killed me Ry! I though you loved me! I loved you Ry, and you didn't feel the same way." She let go of his hair and stepped back, tears glistening in her eyes once again, replacing the cruelty that had been there before. He tried to respond, half expecting nothing to come out, but this time, he was able to speak.  
  
"What? Janine, I did... I do love you. I didn't kill you! suicide...two years ago... exactly two years ago." He whispered, nearly breaking down and crying himself. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he could only speak, he couldn't move. "You wrote me a note and put it on my bed. I found it when I got home that night. I swear, as soon as I read it, I rushed over to your house... I tried to stop you, but it was too late... Janine, you overdosed on heroin... your dad's supply. I found you... in the bathroom... Shit, you were blue... I called an ambulance and tried CPA, but it didn't work... Janine, you didn't only kill yourself, you killed the baby too. Your baby, my baby, our baby. She didn't even get a chance to live."  
  
"Shut up!" Janine screamed at him. She slapped him across the face; the cruel gleam was back in her eyes. "I would never have done it if you hadn't made me! Then, after I had shot up, you didn't even try to save me! Why didn't you save me Ry? It's all your fault! You could have stopped me! We would have been happy together, you, Tory, and me! How could you let me down like this Ry?" Words he'd never wanted to hear began to echo in his head and he could stand it anymore. His cheek stung where she had slapped him, but he knew he deserved it. If he had only come home sooner, if he had only tried harder... It was his fault that Janine was dead; it was his fault that Victoria Marie Atwood, his unborn child had died with her. He and Janine had been two fifteen-year-old kids in love, soul mates she would say when they were alone. He hadn't meant to get her pregnant; in fact, he'd only learned about the existence of a baby from the note, her suicide note. Five months along it said, a girl, Victoria Marie Atwood. Before the baby was born, they would both be sixteen; they could've handled it. His mom had only been fifteen when Trey was born and Janine was a much better person than his mother was. Ryan was snapped out of his thoughts by Janine's choking; she was turning blue. She was dying again and he could do anything about it. He was a failure; he'd failed her yet again...  
  
"Ryan! Ryan wake up!" Seth shouted urgently, shaking his foster brother. Ryan was trapped in the confines of another nightmare. Seth was the only one who knew about them and Ryan had sworn him to secrecy. He had walked into the pool house only to find Ryan struggling on the bed, his legs wrapped in the sheets. He was crying out for someone, no, for two people: Janine and Tory. Seth didn't understand what was going on and he was worried, so he'd immediately tried to rouse Ryan. All of the sudden, the shorter boy's bright blue eyes shot open and his hand immediately shot to Seth's throat, as if to strangle him. Two seconds passed before Ryan realized whom it was that he had in a choke hold, and let go. Seth took a quick step back, massaging his throat in shock. Ryan took a deep breath.  
  
"Sorry about that man. You startled me." He tried. Seth looked skeptical.  
  
"Is that how you've always reacted when someone startles you? What's wrong Ry?" Seth responded. At the sound of his name, the blond boy glanced up, his gaze icy.  
  
"Don't call me Ry." He hissed before standing quickly and disappearing into the bathroom. Seth just stood in the middle on the pool house for several moments, pondering what his brother could possibly have been dreaming about. Maybe he could break his promise, just this one time. His dad would know what to do. Sandy Cohen always knew what to do.  
  
A/N: Hope you liked it. Just for the record, if you're wondering what's up with the "Don't call me Ry" thing, go back up to where Janine was talking to him and see what usually she calls him... Sorry I took so long to update... Anyway, you know that you want to hit that cute little review button at the bottom. I want everything except flames please... Comments: did you like it... what could I have done better... was it confusing... any ideas for where I should go with this story... Anything like that... (  
  
-Dizzy 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Your comments are really appreciated. Notice that I'm finally updating, I'm very proud of myself!!! Lol. Sorry about the wait.  
-Dizzy  
  
Dreams aren't real, or are they? Nightmares, wet dreams, and everything in between. Fake. Not real. Products of the unconscious imagination at work... Right? Damn, Ryan didn't even know anymore.  
  
Sure, the writing appearing on the walls in his dream might not have been completely realistic, but he had honestly felt the slap... or had he? Damn, even he didn't know what he was thinking anymore. What he needed right now was about two weeks of sleep, dreamless sleep.  
  
Seth Cohen was at a loss for what to do. He could go ask his father for the help that he was positive he needed and betray Ryan's delicate trust, or he could try to talk to Ryan himself and get a harsh glare or maybe even a black eye for the effort. Taking a deep breath, Seth made his decision. Walking over to the bathroom door, which his brother had just disappeared behind, Seth knocked tentatively. Upon receiving no answer, he tried the handle, expecting to find it locked. It wasn't.  
  
"Ryan?" Seth half whispered, "I'm coming in... okay?" Once again, there was no sound from within the bathroom, so Seth slowly opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the lack of light... the room was as dark as it could possibly be, and that wasn't only because the sun that should have been shining through the small sunroof was covered by storm clouds. The lights were off, and when Seth tried to flick them on, nothing happened; all three bulbs from above the mirror were unscrewed and sitting next to the sink. Moments after Seth realized what happened to the lights, he saw Ryan. The blond boy was huddled in the darkest corner of the small room, his knees were pulled up to his chest and he was rocking slightly. Stunned by how young his 'brother' looked, Seth drew in a sharp breath. Ryan had always seemed so many years older than he actually was and Seth had always figured that it was because Ryan had lived in Chino, but maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong. Maybe, just maybe, there was something else, something that even Sandy Cohen, who'd practically memorized Ryan's file, didn't know about. Something deeper, something more painful... Seth knew that he was probably blowing this whole thing way out of proportion, but he couldn't help but wonder why Ryan had those horrible nightmares... Were they simply dreams, or were they memories?  
  
Seth slowly knelt on the tile floor next to Ryan and quickly realized that the other boy had tears running silently down his cheeks. Had he ever seen Ryan cry? No, of course he hadn't. Ryan did cry, not even when the cops took him away, not even when his own mother turned her back on him that last time; Ryan Atwood didn't cry.  
  
"Ryan... what's up man?" Seth was careful not to call his best friend 'Ry' because there seemed to be something about that too. Seth rarely heard Ryan called 'Ry,' but come to think of it, when Seth thought back, he could remember Ryan cringing slightly whenever that nickname escaped someone's lips. Yet another one of the many odd 'mysteries' surrounding Ryan Atwood. Seth was sure that the file his father had in his office on Ryan would explain many of the questions he had about the guy's behavior at times, but Seth had an odd gut feeling that the names Janine and Tory wouldn't be explained in that file. That particular explanation had to come from Ryan himself.  
  
Pushing his many questions to the back of his mind, Seth placed his hand lightly on Ryan's shoulder and shook him gently. Suddenly, Ryan shook his head and offered a slight smile.  
  
"What do you want Seth?" He asked, as if nothing odd had been going on. Seth was amazed by the fact that in a split second, Ryan was able to go back to looking like himself, and not some lost little boy. That was the first time that Seth realized that the Ryan he knew might not at all be real; the Ryan he knew might be the mask of a kid who had to hide in order to survive. The real Ryan Atwood might be an entirely different person. Ryan climbed to his feet and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Seth on the floor.  
  
Ryan wasn't showing it, but he was terrified. Oh God, what if Seth knew? No, Seth couldn't know! Seth didn't know about Ryan's failure; he didn't know who Janine and Tory were; he didn't know anything about how Ryan hadn't been in time to save them. To Seth, Ryan was some kind of a hero, or a big brother figure. (Even though Seth was technically five weeks older). Ryan could destroy that superhero image; if the Cohen's only knew, they would throw his sorry ass out of their pool house in two seconds flat. Ryan was a failure, a murderer, pretending to be a normal kid and his mask was slipping off, piece by piece. It was all that Ryan could do to pretend that nothing was wrong, to get up out of that dark corner, which was where he would have stayed forever if he could have. Reaching under his bed, Ryan grabbed the black bag he'd brought with him from Chino, and after fishing around inside it for a moment, he pulled out a half empty package of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking his two precious possessions with him, he exited the pool house and walked around back to smoke; if any of the Cohens looked out from the main house, they wouldn't have been able to see him, so he was safe with the comforting nicotine, at least for a little while. Just as Ryan was finishing his first cigarette, Seth found him and sat down next to him.  
  
"So are you going to tell me what's up man?" The lanky boy asked. Ryan just cast on of his patented sideways glares, but for once, it didn't work. Seth knew that Ryan didn't realize it, but the glare looked much more sad and lost than it looked hard and back offish.  
  
"Not working Ry... Ryan."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I want to know who Janine and Tory are."  
  
"Never say those names, and never call me Ry."  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"No... I can't."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You ask too many questions."  
  
"I could go to my dad and tell him about your nightmares."  
  
"Are you threatening me?"  
  
"...yes..."  
  
The two boys sat in complete silence for a few minutes and as Seth was about to get up, Ryan spoke.  
  
"You don't want to know."  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"I don't want to remember..."  
  
"You can't run from your past."  
  
"Says who?"  
  
"um... I dunno who made that one up..."  
  
"You would really tell your dad... would you?"  
  
"I think I would... you need to talk to someone..."  
  
"I'd really rather not..." Seth noticed the crack in Ryan's voice as he spoke.  
  
"It'll help..."  
  
"Help what" Ryan suddenly yelled, standing up angrily, "It won't bring them back, it won't erase what happened, and it won't change what I did!" Tears began streaming down his cheeks once again, and Ryan Atwood gave up and sitting down again, began to sob.  
  
A/N Next chappy is when you (and I) get to find out what exactly happened... yippee!!! Okay, I know that Seth kinda figures out a bit too much on his own when he's in the bathroom with Ryan, but I'm satisfied with that part. I'm sorry if it's confusing, and I'm sorry if the spacing is bad again, I can't seem to fix that. I think that this chappy is pretty angsty, and I'm sorry if you don't like that, but I don't think it will be getting any lighter for a few chapters. PLEASE R/R!!! 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N Sorry I haven't updated; I've been on vacation for the last two weeks and my dad's laptop isn't presently hooked up to the Internet, so all I could do was write. Finally, I get to see what happened way back when in Chino. I've been looking forward to seeing how this chapter will play out. Enjoy and please R/R!!! By the way, I realize that it's pretty unrealistic that neither Ryan nor Theresa were aware of what was going on with Janine, but just go along with it; this was a hard chapter for me to write because I couldn't seem to make it emotional enough...

'Beautiful, twisted and beautiful. I'm wasted and miserable, take it away!' –Lucky Boys Confusion (Atari)

Seth awkwardly laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder, trying in vain to comfort the shorter boy. A quiet, brooding, angry Ryan Atwood, he could deal with, but a sobbing Ryan? What the world needed was a book called 'Comforting a Crying Guy, For Dummies.' Seth didn't really expect any sort of response from Ryan, so when the guy's face instantly became expressionless and the tears stopped falling, Seth recognized and accepted the mask. (A/N I'd like to say that I am very proud of myself for the last part of that last sentence... lol)

It had been a long time since Ryan had willingly thought of Janine, but when the tears stopped, the words simply spilled from his lips as he began to tell Seth the story, which he'd been trying desperately to forgot for two years...

A/N I'm not writing this next part like Ryan's speaking because that would be too hard for me, so...

They say that when you're in your first years of school, you switch 'best friends' at least once a week; this may have been true for other little kids, but for Ryan Atwood, Theresa Ramirez, and Janine Fisher, it wasn't. They met exactly three weeks and five days before the first day of the first grade at Chino Elementary and from then on, they were inseparable. Theresa lived two doors down from the corner on North Elm Street, Ryan's house was the next one, and Janine's was the following one, the last on the street. Ryan had just moved from Frenso where his father had been arrested, so when the three of them met, Ryan, desperate for friends, ignored his older brother's teasing about the girls and hung out with Janine and Theresa. They were unlikely friends, being so different, but for some reason, it simply worked for them.

Theresa was the tallest, loudest, and most social with her doe brown eyes and long raven hair. Janine, much quieter than her best girlfriend, had jade green eyes, which always expressed her emotions, and her beautiful, thick brown hair was a source of jealousy among all the girls at school. Ryan had always been a quiet kid, fiercely loyal with a bad, easily triggered temper, he was way too smart for his own good, and had deep, ocean blue eyes that made girls swoon, even when he was six-years-old. (Ryan had received his first kiss in the second grade because a girl in his class, Monica, had loved his 'pretty eyes' so much that she'd asked his to stand still, so she could 'look at them closer.' Sure she'd practically examined his eyes, but she'd also kissed him and run off giggling. Even though he'd wiped his lips frantically then, Ryan ended up fucking her a few times when he was fifteen, shortly after Janine's death.)

Somehow, the trio stayed best friends all thorough grade school; it was only in the 7th grade when things changed. It was in the 7th grade that Ryan caught two stray bullets from a drive-by shooting. Defying the usual Atwood luck, he was okay. The paramedics hadn't shown up for at least 45 minutes, but the damage had been so minor, that he'd still been conscious when they'd brought him to the hospital and stitched him up. He would carry the small scars all his life and he would always have that memory of the fear he'd felt, but he was okay. Janine and Theresa, whom he'd been walking to meet, were even more worried about him than he himself had been. They'd been only a block or two away when they'd heard the guns and dropped to the ground like they'd been taught; from their position there, they'd seen Ryan jerk back and fall to the ground when the bullets had hit him. Ryan had immediately stopped moving, despite the pain, until he was sure the shooters were gone, but what he hadn't counted on was that his two friends would see him laying there, not moving, and that they would think he was dead. They'd been so afraid for him, that after he was released from the hospital, they'd both refused to leave his side until he was safely home and even then, Janine didn't leave. She crawled in through his bedroom window as he went in the front door and they'd slipped into the bed with him. They'd lost their virginity to each other on that night and from then on, they were a couple. He'd kissed a few girls before Janine, but it's usually been on a dare or something like that; he'd never before felt how he'd felt in bed that night with Janine. Sure it'd been pretty awkward, but that was only natural. Ryan didn't realize it then, but that was love. He loved her and he knew for a fact that he was loved in return; they didn't need to say it, but they both knew it was mutual. Things were slightly different with Theresa from then on, but all in all, she was fine with them being together, as long as they didn't exclude her too often. The two years from the 7th grade to the 9th grade were best ones on Ryan's life; he could escape his horrible home life and hang out with his best friend and his girlfriend.

When they were in the 9th grade, Ryan and Theresa found out that things weren't going so well for Janine at home. Her mother had died in a car accident when she was four, so, being an only child, she lived alone with her alcoholic father. One night, Ryan and Theresa went to her house to pick her up because they were going to a movie and they saw, through the window, Mr. Fisher beating Janine in a drunken rage. Ryan felt the anger well up inside of him and he would have broken down the door to get to her, but luckily, it wasn't locked. The two fifteen-year-olds had rushed in to find Janine lying in the middle of the floor crying, her father had stormed out the back door. She'd tearfully admitted to a fuming Ryan and a shocked Theresa that her father had been frequently hitting her ever since he'd gotten hooked on heroin among other drugs. Ryan was angry for several reasons at that moment, and one of those reasons was that she hadn't told him about what was happening to her. When Ryan expressed his anger, Janine retaliated unexpectedly.

"Ry you dumbass! I can't believe you could possibly be mad at ME for not telling you about this, when YOU'RE getting your ass kicked at home every single day and you STILL won't say anything!" She screamed at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "We both know what goes in your house, but you're too fucking proud to confide in your best friends!" Ryan felt like he'd been punched in the gut and he didn't know if the feelings swirling around inside of him were of anger, shame, or both. Ryan was aware of the fact that Janine and Theresa knew how bad his home life was; his mom and her boyfriends had always hit him if they hadn't been gone on one of their two-week drug binges. Granted, ever since AJ had moved in, things had gone from bad to considerably worse, but of course Ryan wasn't going to go around and talk about it. He'd never been a talkative person. Afraid that his feelings would overtake him, Ryan didn't say anything in response to Janine's outburst. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked out the front door, which was still swinging on its rusty hinges from his entrance. Janine and Theresa watched silently as Ryan vanished into the night.

Theresa helped Janine get clean up before she convinced the smaller girl to leave her house and spend the night in Theresa's bed. After tucking Janine in, Theresa sighed and spoke for the first time.

"I'm going after him, okay J? I'll be back in two seconds, but I have to make sure the asshole doesn't do anything stupid and hurt himself or someone else" Janine nodded and closed her eyes. Taking that as an okay, Theresa slipped out the window and into the growing darkness to search for Ryan.

When Theresa left, Janine immediately climbed out of the bed. There was no point anymore. After tonight, there was nothing left to do; Ryan and Theresa had found out about the physical abuse, so it wouldn't be long before they found out about how her father touched her. She tried to stop him, but there was nothing she could do. He said that if anyone found out, they would think that she was a slut and they would hate her. She couldn't take it if her two best friends found out and they hated her, so she had to end it before they found out. (Her father never actually raped her, he just touched her, so the baby is Ryan's) There was also the baby, which she could tell anyone about; if Ryan was going to break up with her, there was no way she could raise the baby on her own. She didn't know how she'd been able to hide her pregnancy for the last five months, but Janine was good at hiding things; she had also been able to hide the bruises that frequently marred her skin from Ryan and Theresa. She was already dead, no one cared, and there was no point in living anymore... If she were dead, people could find out about how her father hurt her and the fact that they all thought she was a slut wouldn't effect her. Would anyone notice her absence? She wasn't even sure anymore. She might have done it then and there, with no note or explanation, just killed herself, but in fact, it wasn't only herself whom she'd be killing. Janine had never been as smart as Ryan was, but even she knew that an unborn baby couldn't live if its mother killed herself. The baby, whom she'd already named, deserved recognition; Ryan, even though she was sure he hated her, deserved to know that he had a daughter. It was difficult for her to clamber out of Theresa's window because she was hurt, but she accepted the pain, she deserved it because soon, very soon, she was going to kill an innocent child along with herself. It was the baby, Victoria or Tory, which Janine felt most guilty about because the tiny human being would never get a chance to live, but maybe that was better; Chino wasn't a very nice place to grow up anyway...

When she slipped into her house via the unlocked front door, Janine made directly for the loose floorboard in her father's bedroom. Janine knew exactly where he kept his heroin stash and she'd never touch it before because she was against almost all drugs, but tonight was different. Janine filled a syringe with as much of the drug as it could hold, a lethal dosage, before she set it down and picked up her favorite purple pen to write her final note, to Ryan. When she finished a few minutes later, she sealed the letter, pressed her lips to it in one last kiss, and limped back out the door towards Ryan's house. It hurt to slip in his window too, but she kept reminding herself that she deserved the pain for what she was about to do. She didn't waste any time in Ryan's bedroom, she simply set the note on his unmade bed and climbed right back out the window. (He had the room to himself for the next month, until Trey got out of juvie for the second time.) She didn't deserve to be in this room, she didn't deserve to breathe in his scent any longer, she didn't deserve him because she was about to kill what he'd helped to create, their baby.

It didn't take long for Theresa to find Ryan; he was at the park, where else would he go. He was sitting on a low branch in the tree where they'd all carved their initials when they'd been ten. Ryan was smoking a cigarette from the pack he'd swiped from a gas station earlier that day. She didn't say anything, but swung up onto the sturdy branch and settled down next to him. He passed her a cigarette and his lighter without saying a word, or even looking at her. She could tell by the way his blue eyes were glazed over that he was in deep thought. (Picture Matt Damon looking at the ceiling in that once scene from Good Will Hunting... Definitely in deep thought...). The only light was coming from a flickering street lamp, the last of a dying breed in Chino because guys like Trey Atwood enjoyed breaking them. Observing his rigid frame, Theresa noticed the tension in Ryan's shoulders and the fact that the knuckles on both of his hands were split from where he'd probably punched a wall or the tree. She also noticed the burn marks on his forearms, which were only fading because his mother and AJ had left him alone at home and gone on a drug binge; if they'd been home, the burns would be fresh. Holding lit cigarettes against Ryan's skin seemed to be one of his mother's favorite pastimes lately. Damn it, Chino was a fucked up place to live. She let him sit there in silence for almost five minutes before she spoke.

"Ry, you hurt her... She's upset and I'm pretty sure she thinks that you're going to break up with her."

"I didn't mean it, I... I just... I dunno. I just thought that she would tell us if something like that was going on with her... It makes me feel that... that she doesn't... that she doesn't trust me or something..." He stuttered. Theresa knew how hard it must be for him. Being the strong and silent type, Ryan hardly spoke more than a few words at a time unless he was drunk or high and even then, he was quieter than most. "I wasn't even mad at her... I... I... other than her dad, I'm mostly mad at myself. I should have realized... I mean, I just never thought of it. Now that I am thinking about it, I can remember tons of times that she had explanations that seemed logical. She fell down the stairs; she tripped; she hit her eye on that high bedpost... I can't believe that I didn't know..."

"Ry, this is hard for me too. You're not the only person who's angry because they accepted the explanations without realizing that they were lies. I just handle my anger better than you do." Theresa explained. Then, trying to lighten the mood, she nodded at his knuckles. "It looks like you took a bit of your anger out on a wall or something." When she noticed the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, she allowed herself to grin despite the situation.

"I cleaned her up and took her over to my house. It's been a long night for all of us; we should go home." Theresa suggested, hoping that her friend would agree with her. She was relieved when he nodded slowly.

"Yeah, of course. I should go and apologize first though." He said quietly.

"That would mean a lot to her; just no make-up fuck in my bed though. You two can do that at your house when I'm not around." Theresa warned and Ryan almost laughed.

"Okay, okay." He nearly smiled.

"Come on Ry, let's go check on her." Theresa changed the subject. Ryan turned his fierce blue eyes on her for a moment before he nodded and jumped down from the tree. Theresa followed a second later and they walked the four blocks back to Theresa's house together.

Ryan knew something was wrong when Janine wasn't in Theresa's bed because there was absolutely no logical reason for her to be gone. Afraid that her father had come back and found her, Ryan scrambled back out of Theresa's window and began to run over to Janine's house; Theresa was right behind him. As he passed his own bedroom widow, Ryan stopped short; he hadn't left it open that far, only the tiniest bit. Relief flooded through him; Janine was probably in his bedroom waiting for him to come and apologize. Ryan clambered through his own window and making his way in the dark towards the door, he flicked on the dull light only to find his bedroom empty. Surprised, he quickly scanned the room for any sign of Janine and noticed the letter on his bed. He tore it open and only read the first few lines before he gasped, terrified, and practically knocked Theresa over as he threw himself out the window once again. He had to get to her; he had to stop her. Ryan was thinking of nothing but Janine as he, his adrenaline pumping and blood pounding in his ears, raced the short distance to Janine's house.

With Theresa on his heels, Ryan burst through Janine's front door, screaming her name frantically and began desperately searching the house. Seeing a sliver of light coming from under the door in her father's room, Ryan threw open the door and froze when he found Janine, no, Janine's body, on the floor in the middle of the room. An empty syringe lay at her side. Ryan was oblivious to the sound of Theresa falling to her knees on the ground beside him; the only sound he could hear was someone choking out the word 'no' over and over again; he didn't even realize that he was the person speaking. Suddenly, Theresa came to her senses and yelled for him to do CPR while she called an ambulance. Obeying his friend's command, Ryan brushed Janine's thick hair back from her pretty face and made use of the CPR skills he'd acquired one of the few days he hadn't skipped health class. Still, Janine didn't move; her lips were blue and her skin was cold and deathly pale. Ryan was getting more and more desperate with every passing moment. He tried to take her pulse and discovered that she had none. Ryan didn't know how long he sat there, doing CPR and looking for a pulse, but nothing was working, it wasn't working, it wasn't working, it wasn't working. Nothing he was doing made her sit up and smile that beautiful smile at him. In his heart, he knew that she was dead, but his head was still in denial, still forcing him to try to wake her up. It was his fault. If he hadn't yelled at her, if he hadn't walked out, if, if, if... There were a million reasons that it was his fault.

Dr. Chase McNab had been on ambulance duty for ten years, but it still hurt him every time he was called to the scene of a suicide, especially if it was a young person. After the medics had loaded up the body of the teenage girl, it was McNab's job to get information out of the boy and girl who'd found their friend dead on the floor. He laid a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, but it was as if he was made of stone. The kid's face was frozen and his bright blue eyes glazed over; if McNab hadn't seen the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, he would have wondered if the kid was dead himself. After a moment, McNab decided that he'd better talk to the girl. She was sobbing uncontrollably, but managed to relay details of the night to him. They'd come to the door, found her father beating her, the boy, Ryan, had gotten mad, walked out, she'd brought the dead girl, Janine, to her house, put her in bed, left to find Ryan because he had a bad temper and she was afraid of how he might have vented his anger, she'd found him, they'd come back, Janine was gone, they'd looked at Ryan's house, found the note, rushed to Janine's, and found her on the floor.

"Theresa, why won't he talk?" McNab asked the girl, worried about her blue-eyed companion.

"They were... together... He loved her." Was her only response before she went back to sobbing. McNab, knowing that he had to leave with the ambulance, walked out, leaving the two teenagers alone. It was only back in the ambulance when McNab was informed that there were in fact two dead girls, Janine had been five months pregnant.

Dr. Chase McNab had always hated getting suicide calls. It was 11:27 pm when the ambulance left and Theresa and Ryan were completely and utterly alone.

A/N I would like to point out that there has been a lot of jumping in and out of windows in the last little bit and I have two explanations for this: number one is that they want to avoid Theresa's mother and number two is that sometimes, it's faster. Well, that wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I think it was okay; these things work out in the weirdest ways sometimes... Anyway, did you like it? R/R please!!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter Five

**THIS A/N IS KIND OF IMPORTANT FOR YOU TO READ** I just realized that I've forgotten to specify exactly when this is story is taking place. (Well, I don't remember putting that in; I'm not sure because I only have chapters four and five with me at the moment considering the fact that this is being written on a laptop in the middle of Yellowstone and the rest of the story is on my home computer.) This story is taking place right after the entire Oliver incident. His almost suicide has prompted Ryan's nightmares.

"And in case you haven't noticed and in case you haven't heard, it's just me against the world and the world is winning." –I forgot the exact name of this band, but I know that it's a girl band, sorry.

"Scars they cut into you; blisters, a rose colored hue; mayday, we're going down. These masculine memories are morose; constant company's comatose." –Vendetta Red (Shatterday)

"God, I need a drink." Ryan whispered, before resting his head on his knees, successfully hiding his face from Seth. An eerie silence settled over the two boys as Ryan stopped speaking. Seth was no expert, but it was his firm belief that a really good psychologist was what Ryan needed, not a beer.

"Dude... you've... got to tell... someone else." Seth said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "No one should have to keep that bottled up inside." Ryan looked up, shocked and angry.

"You think I need a shrink don't you?" He hissed, his eyes flashing, "That's exactly what Theresa said." Seth held up his hands defensively, hoping desperately to avoid being on the receiving end of a punch.

"I... I don't know... I just... I think..." He stuttered, at a loss for words. The icy look in the blond boy's eyes was terrifying to Seth; he'd seen Ryan angry before, but not that angry. Seth, sure that he'd said the wrong thing, wished that the ground would open up and swallow him. He didn't have the right to hear about Janine and Victoria because he had no way of helping the guy whom they haunted.

"I didn't think you would do this to me; you were the one person that I thought I could trust to not think I'm crazy." Ryan's eyes had lost their rage and voice was calmer now, but he sounded hurt.

"I don't think you're crazy Ry; I..." Seth started. Suddenly, Ryan's eyes lit on fire again and he leapt to his feet.

"I told you not to call me that!" He shouted. Then, realizing he was shouting at his best friend, a boy who only wanted to help, he looked at the ground. "I'm going for a walk; I'll be back later." Grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the ground, he disappeared down the path, which led towards the beach. Seth was left, dumbstruck, sitting behind the pool house as his brother vanished. Okay, Seth thought, it's defiantly time to get dad involved.

Five minutes later, Seth was not inside the house, calling his father; instead he was in Ryan's pool house, shuffling through the boy's belongings. He knew that by going through Ryan's things, he was betraying his brother's delicate trust, but he knew he had to. What he was trying to do was find the note; he was sure that Ryan wouldn't have thrown it away, so Seth's best guess was that it was in the pool house somewhere. He had to see that note, that final goodbye of a girl he hadn't even known; Ryan wasn't the most talkative person in general, so Seth knew that if he read that note, he would be able to better understand what was going on with Ryan. As Seth searched, he realized that despite the fact that his mother frequently bought new things for Ryan, the guy hardly ever used them. There was an unopened cd player in one of his drawers, many of the clothes were untouched, and in the closet, Seth found three unopened shoeboxes. If he'd been Ryan, he would have taken full advantage of everything offered to him, but Seth supposed that this was one of the many things that set himself and Ryan apart. It was under the bed that Seth finally found what he was looking for. Stuffed in the darkest corner, he stumbled across the black book bag that Ryan had originally brought with him from Chino. Rescuing the tattered bag from the darkness of the underside of the bed, Seth sat down on the neatly made bed and opened it. Inside, he found an assortment of things that shocked him. The first things that Seth noticed were the folded jeans, shirt, undershirt, boxers, and socks that Ryan had kept in the bag; gasping, the gangly boy realized that his friend had been prepared to run at any moment. There was also an envelope stuffed with money, which Seth figured had come from when Ryan had worked at the Crab Shack. The guy could have disappeared with just the book bag and he would have been fine on his own. There were also things in the book bag that Seth had assumed would be there: a half empty package of condoms, three boxes of cigarettes, and a lighter. There was also an old green spiral notebook, which had 'You Touch, You Die' scrawled messily on the cover; it was a journal. As Seth picked it up, four photos and a piece of paper fell out. Realizing that he'd found what he was looking for, Seth put everything back in the book bag and picking it up, slipped out of the pool house, before Ryan could get back and catch him in the act of invading privacy.

A/N I'm all about the song quotes in this chapter. I've got three already if you count the next one and a lot of them don't make much sense, I just like them.

"In the land of dirt and plaster, there lies an army of 1,000 nowhere kids; losing ground and falling faster, into the life that no one should have to live." –Smile Empty Soul (Nowhere Kids)

Incidentally, there was no chance of Ryan walking in on Seth because as Seth was rustling around in the pool house, Ryan was sitting on a deserted stretch of beach, chain smoking and drinking from a bottle of vodka, which was hidden in a paper bag; he had bought the vodka with his fake id. Ryan knew that he would have to go back sometime, but for right now, he was content with smoking and getting drunk on the beach. He would figure out how to explain it to Sandy and Kirsten later. Too much was on his mind right now. Usually, Ryan could control his thoughts very well, if he didn't want to think about something, he was able to push it to the back of his mind, but today was an exception. There were so many people whom he just couldn't seem to forget, too many people whose faces were floating around in his head. It was all too familiar, too much for him to handle.

There was Theresa to remember. He hadn't seen her since Thanksgiving and that one hadn't gone particularly well; she'd been jealous of Marissa and he'd almost gotten his ass kicked by those guys at the chop shop. Theresa, Theresa, Theresa. He had so many good memories of Theresa, but there were also so many bad ones that almost overpowered the good ones. There'd been that time when he and Theresa had first hooked up and had so much fun together in several different ways; those were defiantly good memories. Then again, there had also been that time when she thought she was pregnant, not so good, especially after Janine.

Janine. Damn it. That was quite possibly the worst thing that'd ever happened to him. After everything with Janine, Ryan had gone on a downwards spiral, leading towards ultimate self-destruction. He'd gone on a drinking, drug, and sex binge after Janine had killed herself. He'd done all three before the incident, but not even close to half as much. Before Janine, he would smoke a little pot from time to time, drink when he was hanging out with friends, and of course, have frequent sex with Janine, but only Janine. After she was gone, Ryan had started drinking a whole lot more than he used to, smoking a hell of a lot more pot and sometimes using ecstasy or other drugs, and then there was the sex. Following Janine's death, Ryan became a huge fan of one night stands; quite a few girls experienced the pleasure that come from letting Ryan Atwood possess them for a few hours.

Then there was Eddie, Arturo, all of the girls he'd slept with in Chino and in Newport ever since Marissa chose to trust Oliver over him, his mother, his father, Trey, AJ, and so many other people. Ryan couldn't take the memories anymore, so he took a long swig from his vodka bottle, effectively draining it and washing away everything. The vodka didn't knock him out, but it temporarily rescued Ryan from the memories and that was good enough for the moment. Lighting yet another cigarette, Ryan stared into the ocean and was grateful that he'd chosen to sit in the shade of a tree because it was still only 2 pm.

When Seth stepped into the house holding Ryan's book bag, he called for his mother, before realizing that she was obviously at work, as was his father. Picking up the black cordless, Seth quickly dialed his father's cell number, knowing that he would get an answering machine, which he did. When Sandy Cohen was at work, it was almost impossible to reach him.

"You've reached the cell phone of Sandy Cohen, please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." The machine rattled off. "Beep."

"Dad, this is Seth. We've got a bit of an emergency on our hands here; I think Ryan had a bit of a breakdown. I don't know where he went, but, well, you've got to get home right away; it's urgent. Call that guy you know from Chino, Mark something I think... Ask about a Janine Fisher, brought into the morgue two years ago today." Beep. The answering machine cut Seth off.

"Damn it!" He swore. He needed his father right now, and of course, Sandy Cohen couldn't be reached.

"I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems; I've got to open my eyes to everything." –Evanescance (Bring Me To Life)

Sandy Cohen pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on as he was walking out of a meeting with a client; the woman wanted to sue McDonalds because she'd gained four pounds. People could be insane. The blinking light on the phone indicated that he had new messages, so, dialing his voicemail, he played them.

"Message one of two." The machine said.

"Hey Sandy, this is Jim. I just wondering if you and the wife wanted to meet Caroline and me for dinner next weekend; we haven't seen each other in a while, so call me back." Sand chuckled; sure he'd love to go out for dinner with Jim and Caroline, but Kirsten and Caroline didn't always get along too well.

"Message two of two."

"Dad, this is Seth..." Sandy listened, startled, as his son's frightened voice relayed the news to him through the answering machine. Jesus, he needed to get home and what the hell did Seth mean he didn't know where Ryan had gone?

Sandy, afraid and curious, saved both messages and immediately called Seth at home.

"Hello?"

"Seth, what's going on there?"

"Dad, oh thank God, you got my message. I don't know, but Ryan's gone; I haven't seen him in three hours. He left at about noon and it's three o'clock now."

"You let him leave?"

"I didn't mean to, I was, I guess I was in shock, but I did see that he went down towards the beach. You've got to come home right now."

"I'm on my way Seth; give me fifteen minutes. You can explain everything to me when I get home." Sandy stopped by Rachel's office and poked his head in. She was sitting at her desk.

"Sandy, what's wrong, you're pale as a ghost." She commented.

"I've got a family emergency on my hands; I've got to take the rest of the day off." He didn't even wait to hear her response before hurrying off, towards the employee garage. When he reached the car, Sandy jumped in and as he was starting the engine, he followed Seth's advice and scrolled down the phone book on his cell phone. Finding the name he was looking for, Sandy pressed call and waited for the phone to be answered.

"Chino Morgue, this is Mark."

"Hey Mark, this is Sandy Cohen. I don't have much time, so I'm going to try and keep this short. I'm calling in a favor."

"Oh, hey. Sure Sandy, what do you need?"

"I need a autopsy report on one Janine Fisher. She was brought in exactly two years ago today."

"Interesting request Sandy. I'm technically not supposed to hand these things out, but after what you did for my sister's kid, it'll be no problem. Do you want me to email it to you or read it to you over the phone."

"Both if you can."

"No problem. Just give me two seconds." Sandy waited silently.

"Sandy?"

"I'm here Mark."

"Okay, I just emailed it. Here we go... Oh, this was a sad one. Name was Janine Michelle Fisher. Age 15. Death was a suicide; it was apparently a heroin overdose. There was also suspicious bruising on the body, which is explained as child abuse; her father was hitting her. I don't know how they know who did it, but whatever. She was pronounced dead at the scene; they didn't even bother to take her to the hospital. There's a note saying that a doctor named Chase McNab was on ambulance duty; he reported that a teenage boy and girl were the ones who found her; he was worried about them, but no one ever bothered to follow up on that part. This next part is the worst. She was five months pregnant; it was a baby girl. Um, that's all the important stuff. May I ask why you're interested in this?"

"Do you remember how I told you a few months ago that I brought that kid back with me from Chino and Kirsten and I became his legal guardians?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, we love him like Seth; he's a great kid, amazingly smart, but he's got a few... issues. This afternoon, Seth left me a message saying that Ryan had a breakdown and in the message, he told me to ask you about Janine Fisher. Ryan is tough as nails and he had a breakdown. His own mother walked out of his life as he watched and he didn't shed a tear, but something about this girl caused him to have a breakdown."

"He might have been one of the teenagers who found the dead girl's body; that's the only explanation that I can come up with."

"I'll keep that in mind Mark; thank you."

"Oh shit, we just got two new bodies, car accident. I've got to go Sandy. I hope everything works out for you guys."

"Thanks Mark, bye."

"Bye."

By the time Sandy finished the phone call, he was speeding down the last block towards his home. Pulling into the sloping driveway, Sandy noticed Seth sitting on the front steps, a black book bag in hand. Shutting off the engine, Sandy clambered out of the Beamer and quickly approached his son.

As Sandy can near, his son stood up and handed him a piece of paper and four pictures. Sandy took the objects from Seth and glanced at them. The first picture was of three small children perhaps seven years old and they were standing, smiling their arms around each other's shoulders. There were two girls and one boy. Though the bright smile nearly deceived him, but Sandy recognized the young boy by his sandy blond hair and amazingly bright blue eyes; it was Ryan. He'd been a small, happy looking kid, though Sandy couldn't help but notice the fading black eye and the hand-shaped bruises around both his wrists. Glancing at the next picture, Sandy realized that at least eight years had passed between the two pictures; the second picture was of the same three kids, but this time, instead of all of them having their arms around each other, they were in very different positions. The black haired girl was standing, happily smiling and rolling her eyes at Ryan and the brown haired girl. Ryan was standing behind the brown haired girl, his head on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck, and his hands very, very low around her waist; she was smiling broadly and had her hands closed over hers. Flipping to the next picture, Sandy noticed the difference immediately; there were only two people, Ryan and the black haired girl. They weren't smiling, in fact, while the girl looked as if she'd been crying, Ryan looked drunk. Putting the final picture on top, Sandy was greeted with at least 20 faces, of which he recognized only three: Ryan, his brother Trey, and the black haired girl. Many of the people in the picture were holding cigarettes or in Ryan's case, a joint and many of them had beer cans in their grasp; Sandy was sure that there was no one over the age of 19 in the picture. Sandy, having done plenty of pot smoking and drinking in his own youth, wasn't shocked, but it was the look on Ryan's face that surprised him. His smile was more of a smirk and even that didn't reach his eyes; he looked too old to be only 16 or so. After he'd finished looking at the pictures, Sandy handed them back to Seth and unfolded the piece of paper; it was a note.

Ry,

The first thing I'm going to say is I'm sorry. I know that you hate me now, but I still love you and I always will. This is a goodbye letter; I'm not going to call it a suicide note because that makes it seem so much more real. I'm going to admit a few things in this letter that before now, I haven't been able to admit. First off, this is not at all your fault; I know that you carry the weight of the entire fucking world on your shoulders and blame yourself for everything, but this isn't your fault. (I know that if somehow you forgive me for being a slut, you'll blame yourself). My choice to end my own life was brought on by the fact that physically is not the only way my father was abusing me; every couple of nights, he would be drunk and he would come into my room and touch me; I just can't take it anymore, so I'm going to make it stop. I know that you think I'm a slut now, but I just wanted to tell you that I tried every time to make him stop, but I never could. I didn't tell you because my father made me realize that you would think I was a slut if you found out and also because you have enough to worry about with Trey in juvie again; no one is there to keep your mom and AJ from doing anything they want to you. The second thing I'm going to admit is that I'm five months pregnant; it's a girl. Obviously she's yours because I haven't made love to anyone else; I named her Victoria, Tory for short, and the part I regret the most about all of this is that she'd never going to get a chance to live. Now, all I have left to do is thank you and Theresa for always being there when no one else was; your friendship and formerly your love was all that kept me alive for this long, but you don't have to be weighed down by me anymore. I'm a horrible person for doing this, but I must have always been horrible because not even my own father could love me. I'm going to go now, so this is my last goodbye. I love both you and Theresa more than words can say.

Love always,

Janine and Tory

Sandy was horrified. Not only was Ryan most likely one of the kids who'd found this Janine's body, he was the father of the dead baby. Folding the note and handing it back to Seth, he watched as his son put both the pictures and the paper back inside a battered green notebook.

"What's that?" He asked, naturally curious.

"A journal." Seth responded.

"Where'd you get it?"

"I found all of this in the book bag; it was under his bed."

"You looked through Ryan's things?"

"I had to." Seth answered honestly, handing his father the book bag.

"This is Ryan's private property; we shouldn't be looking though his things." Sandy said even as he sorted through the contents of the black bag. Like Seth, Sandy was not horribly surprised by all of the contents of the bag, like the condoms and the cigarettes. Even though Ryan had supposedly quit smoking, Sandy knew that he hadn't; Ryan hid it very well, but nicotine had a very distinct smell when a person's clothes had been exposed to cigarette after cigarette. The condoms surprised Sandy nearly less than the cigarettes; he'd known after that time Kirsten had walked in on Ryan and Marissa that the boy was experienced beyond his years, in many ways. Once the two had broken up, Sandy hadn't exactly expected Ryan to remain alone for long. What did affect Sandy though, were the clothes, the money, and the journal. The boy was obviously still uncomfortable with the thought of having a family that wouldn't throw him out if he did something wrong; he was ready to run.

"Did you read what was inside the notebook?" Sandy asked his son as he zipped the bag shut. Seth shook his head.

"No, all I was looking for was the note."

"Good, now go and put this back exactly where you found it; don't tell him that you found it. We need him to trust us completely if we're going to be able to help him through this. He'll show us when he's ready to show us."

Seth hurried off into the pool house, knowing that what his father had said was the right thing to do. Trust was the most important thing right now.

When Seth was out of sight, Sandy quickly set off for the beach to look for Ryan. The boy didn't need to be alone right now; he shouldn't have had to keep this terrible secret from the family who loved him.

A/N How did you like it? Please R/R!!! I'm aware of the fact that this chapter may be a little bit confusing; I couldn't seem to organize my thoughts, so I just wrote it all down. At first, Janine's note made it seem that the suicide was Ryan's fault, so I had to change it because that's not at all what I wanted. If you were confused as to why Janine killed herself, here is a simpler explanation. Her father had been physically and sexually abusing her and he got her to keep it a secret by convincing her that if Ryan and Theresa found out, they would hate her and think she was a slut. In the end, she couldn't take it anymore because not only did she think that Ryan, whom she loved, hated her, she felt that she must truly be a horrible person because even her own father couldn't love her. She didn't wasn't to risk Ryan and Theresa finding out about how her father sexually abused her because then they, the only people whom she felt cared about her, would hate her. This story is becoming more and more angsty and it's started to write itself, but I think that once Ryan talks to Sandy and gets help from either the Cohens or someone else, things will start to look up.


	6. Chapter Six

A/N Sorry for the long wait; here's the new chapter. I hope you like it. Please R/R!!!

Despite the fact that the boy was partially hidden by the shadows that had settled in with the afternoon, it didn't take Sandy long to find Ryan on the beach. He was sitting with his back against a small tree, smoking, his eyes were closed and even as Sandy approached, they didn't open. Sandy knew that Ryan was aware of his presence; never once had he seen anyone successfully sneak up on the kid. Settling down on the sand next to Ryan, Sandy let out a long sigh.

"The ocean's so beautiful at this time of day." He commented casually. Instead of picking up the normal conversation, which Sandy had instigated, Ryan, his eyes still closed, replied softly.

"You're back early." Came the whispered observation.

"Yeah, I know; I took off early. No one in their right mind would hang around in a stuffy office on a day like this." Came another nonchalant comment from Sandy. Ryan didn't respond to this one, he simply took a long drag off of his lit cigarette.

"I thought you quit kid." Sandy tried, yet again, to start a casual conversation.

"No you didn't." Ryan was aware that Sandy knew he had yet to break the bad, yet oddly soothing habit.

"How do you know that I didn't?" This time, Sandy hoped that a challenge would instigate a conversation. Once again, the question triggered absolutely no response from Ryan.

"Seth called me." Sandy decided to skip the small talk and get to the point.

"I knew he would." Ryan informed the older man.

"You know a lot, don't you?" Sandy commented.

"Too much." Ryan's voice was now scarcely more than a whisper.

"Do you want to talk about what you told Seth this morning?" Sandy tested cautiously. This was shaky ground; these next moments measured Ryan's trust in his lawyer/foster father. There was a long pause and the only noise was the distant chattering of sea gulls and the gentle crashing of the water against the rocks, which lined the shore.

"What's there to talk about?" Sandy could tell that this time, Ryan was testing him.

"Well, what are you willing to tell me?" This was a delicate moment, so Sandy decided not to bring up the fact that he could smell the vodka, which Ryan had consumed.

"What do you want to know?" Ryan said, making it known that he did trust Sandy, even after the whole Oliver incident. Sandy, knowing how hard it was to gain Ryan's trust, felt somehow satisfied. He was proud that he had been deemed worthy to be trusted by a boy who had been hurt so many times in his short lifetime by the very people who were supposed to protect him.

"Can you tell me who Janine was?" Sandy questioned.

"She..." Ryan began, but then he paused for a moment as if considering what he wanted to say, "She was someone I cared about, a lot, but she's gone now."

"What happened to her?" Sandy asked. Even though he knew full well what had happened, he questioned Ryan, hoping that the alcohol would have loosened the boy's tongue. Sandy had learned over the years that getting someone to talk about how they'd been hurt was the best way to start healing wound.

"I was always there, except for the time she really needed me." Ryan voice was still a whisper, but it was steady. Sandy was at first surprised by how much Ryan was willing to tell him, but soon he realized that the alcohol must have been what was making the kid talk. Sandy knew that Ryan knew that getting wasted was not the right way to deal with problems, but the boy seemed to have forgotten the history of alcoholism in his family because he was defiantly drunk. There are those who become extremely silly when they get drunk; some become violent; some become angry; some become quiet; Ryan became more open to conversation.

"Ryan, you know that you can tell me anything, right?" Sandy asked the distraught teenager.

"There are some things that just aren't meant to be talked about." Ryan responded, avoiding the question.

"Ryan," Sandy began, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. He wasn't surprised when Ryan pulled away, as if he'd been shocked. "Ryan, you need to listen to me. What happened to that girl was not your fault."

Ryan looked up and Sandy recognized the pain in those bright blue eyes.

"You don't understand Sandy. If you knew what I did, you wouldn't want me anymore." Ryan tried to explain.

"Ryan, I think that I already know most of what there is to know about what happened that night. I can see how you would feel guilty about not knowing about what was going on with her father, but it's not your fault that you didn't know; she hid it from you on purpose. Janine's death was the result of years of sexual and physical abuse inflicted upon her by her father. She loved you and she knew that you loved her."

Ryan scrambled to his feet and began to stumble away from Sandy. The words seemed to have had an effect on the boy, but Sandy could tell exactly what it was. Standing up, Sandy didn't even stop to brush the sand from his pants before he jogged down the beach to catch up with his foster son.

"Ryan, slow down. Don't do this; I want to help you."

"Leave me the hell alone!"

As soon as he was close enough, Sandy grabbed Ryan by the arm to slow him down. The boy responded by whipping around yanking his arm out of Sandy's grasp before taking a half-hearted swing at the older man's head. Sandy caught Ryan's fist and pulled the boy into a strong hug. Ryan struggled from a moment before bursting into tears and letting himself be held. Sandy couldn't help wondering how long it'd been since Ryan had let someone actually comfort him.

After a few minutes of hugging the sobbing boy, Sandy slowly led him back up to the house. After putting the teenager in a guest room, Sandy watched over Ryan until the kid fell into a deep sleep. Ryan was obviously physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted; it'd been a long day for him. Tomorrow, they could straighten everything out.

A/N Please R/R! I know it's short, but I wanted to post what little I had. The next chapter will be longer. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I promise to try and have the next one up a little bit faster. I'm so busy that it took being home sick from school for me to be able to find time to write this chappy.


	7. Chapter Seven

A/N Sorry for another long wait, but I've been suffering from a horrendous case of writer's block. Enjoy the new chapter and PLEASE REVIEW!!! Read the A/N at the bottom... It's IMPORTANT!!!

Sandy

I know that you're going to want to know exactly what's been going on, but if you didn't already know, I don't exactly have a way with words. I left you my old journal, so if there's anything you need to know about, it's probably in there. I went for a walk; I'll be back later.

Ryan

Sandy read and reread the note that had been left along with the journal, which he recognized as the one Seth had found in Ryan's book bag the day before. Ryan had been gone when Sandy had checked on him, but he had left a note for the lawyer on the kitchen counter. Sanday had meant to speak with the distraught teen that morning, but maybe, just maybe, the journal would offer better answers to his probing questions. Sandy sat down at the counter and ignoring the warning scrawled on the cover, he flipped open the battered notebook.

I've never kept a journal before and I don't know exactly what to write, but Trey took the time to lift it for me, so I'll do my best... Um... My name is Ryan Atwood. I'm 14-years-old and I'm about 5'8. I've got blond hair, blue eyes, and finally decent sized muscles because I've been working out with Trey, Eddie, and Arturo this summer... I was born in Fresno, California, but I live with my mom, AJ, and my brother Trey in Chino now because we moved when my dad got arrested five years ago. I've got a girlfriend, Janine, and I've been with her for a year already. Theresa is my other closest friend... Considering my age, I've got a great sex life, but I'm not going to elaborate on that just in case someone is reading this... Yeah... I can't think of anything else to write, so I'm gonna go down to the park with Janine... Later

Sandy raised his eyebrows as he read the part about the 14-year-old's sex life, but didn't stop to think about it; he just turned the page to read the next entry.

Hmm... this entry should be interesting... I'm too stoned to remember the exact date, but it's about a week since I last wrote in here... What's new with me today? I've got two black eyes, and three cracked ribs because AJ thought that I was the one who stole his cigarettes (it was Trey). I really feel like writing, but I can't think of anything good to write, so how about a list of my bad habits...

Smoking (all kinds of things...)

Drinking...

Not always being... careful... with Janine

Talking back to AJ

Agh! I'm just upsetting myself by writing what's wrong with me, so I'm gonna go. Bye.

Again, Sandy raised his eyebrows when he read the parts about drinking and smoking, but that was just his parental alarm going off. He'd already know that things had been different in Chino. The next several entries were short and basically just talked about the different moods Ryan had been in that day. Sandy didn't find anything useful in them, so he skipped ahead, looking for the days surrounding Janine's suicide.

Journal, it's officially been two weeks and I'm finally able to write this because I'm in a good mood. Trey gave me a few happy pills, so I figured that now was as good a time as ever to write this. Janine's gone and she took the baby with her. I was... upset... I... shit, even now, when I'm fucked up in a good way, I can't write about it. After the doctor took her away, I left... Got wasted, straight vodka, and didn't sober up until Trey locked me in the bathroom all day yesterday; I stayed oblivious for two whole weeks. I can't remember much of what happened between two weeks ago and now, but Theresa filled me in on a few on the details. Apparently, I ran out on Theresa after the ambulance had left and showed up at her window, completely wasted, about two hours later... I've been told that I fucked her and she said that it was the best sex she'd ever had... I think she'd been taking a few happy pills too... I dunno... Maybe lying is just her way of coping, or maybe it was good... nevermind. She probably just needed someone to be there for her and I happened to be... I remember a few other one night stands from those two weeks... Cassie, Jori, Aubrey and Amber (the Carlson twins). God, it's horrible how easy it is to get sex in this town... I spent a long time wondering why mom didn't notice that I was gone, but Trey told me earlier that she and AJ are on another binge... She's been gone for a while... Well, Theresa's knocking at the window, so I've got to go...

There were more entries to follow, but they basically went the same way... Ryan drunk or stoned and hooking up with random girls... It was almost surreal, but Sandy figured that sex and drugs were probably Ryan's way of coping... That wasn't right and Sandy was about to call a therapist when he noticed that the last journal entry was actually two... the pages were sticking together. Putting down the phone, Sandy carefully separated the pages and began to read.

Journal, I went to school today; my teachers almost had heart attacks because they were so surprised. I've been different lately. Theresa helped me realize that I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. I was only hurting myself and that's not what Janine would have wanted for me. I've cut back on the drinking; I haven't used drugs in a while; I still smoke a lot, but the more I smoke cigarettes, the less I crave the joints, so I'm choosing my battles. It was a long time before I admitted to myself that Janine and Tory were gone, but now that I've accepted that fact, it's a tiny bit easier. The sex is different now too... I was 'with' Theresa for a while, but that didn't work out... She's been dating Eddie for a few weeks and they seem happy. I'm usually pretty sober when I'm with the girls; I still don't stay the night, but at least I'm lucid enough to remember what happened... This is the first entry I've made in a while where I've been thinking clearly and for some reason it feels good to get it down on paper... I'm cleaning myself up and I'm doing a damn good job of it. Well, I've got to go now, Trey said he wanted to 'teach' me something... whatever it is, it's probably a bad idea, but he helped me earlier, so I'm going to learn something new tonight... I'll write later.

Sandy knew when the last entry had been written. Trey wanted to 'teach' his little brother how to steal a car. Sandy couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Ryan to get his life mostly back on track; the kid was such a strong person. The journal, while it didn't give much detail as to what had happened that fateful night or the days after, really helped Sandy connect with Ryan. The words made him feel as if he was the one who had experienced it. Sandy didn't know why, but the journal entries made everything seem so much more... real. Shutting the green notebook, Sandy took a deep breath. He still had to talk to Ryan, but knowing that the boy was strong enough to have stopped himself when his life was spiraling out of control helped comfort Sandy. Yes, therapy was probably a necessity, but the lawyer somehow felt more... connected.

Settling down on the couch in the living room, Sandy patiently waited for his foster son to return. He would propose the therapy, but above all else, Sandy wanted to let Ryan know that they were all there for him; they were a family and family means that no one gets left behind or forgotten. Sandy had only been waiting for a few minutes when he heard the door quietly open and close. Ryan walked in looking not at all drunk, but smelling strongly of smoke. Sandy motioned to the chair across from him.

"Sit down kid; we've got some things to discuss."

A/N I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, but I just wanted to post something because I haven't updated in sooo long. If you think the chappy's okay how it is, please tell me, but if not, I'm going to try to revise it eventually... Please R/R!!!


	8. Chapter Eight

http:greendayaddict. And you thought that'd I'd abandoned this story… I know it's been a while, but here goes… R/R please!

Standing still when it's do or die,  
You better run for your fucking life.  
It's not over till you're underground.  
It's not over before it's too late.  
This city's burning "It's not my burden".  
It's not over before it's too late, there is nothing left to analyze.

-Green Day (Letterbomb)

Chapter Eight

Ryan's face was blank when he sat down in an overstuffed chair across from Sandy, but the lawyer could tell that he was nervous.

"You're not in trouble Ryan." He assured the boy. Ryan didn't relax. "I want to thank you for letting me read your journal… it… it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to let me try to help you." Ryan nodded slowly.

"Spit it out Sandy." He said simply.

"Spit what out?" The older man asked, knowing full well what Ryan meant.

"I know that all this is leading up to something. What is it?" In Sandy's opinion, Ryan was too perceptive for his own good.

"I want you to try therapy." Sandy watched Ryan's eyes, for a reaction, but there wasn't one, so he continued. "It's actually not an option. You let me in, you confided in me and as your guardian, it's my responsibility to help you face your past." Ryan's bright blue eyes searched Sandy lighter ones.

"This is what you think is best?" Ryan asked quietly. Sandy nodded.

"I'm not trying to break you kid. As hard as it may be to believe sometimes, I only want what's best for you and for the rest of my family. I think of you as my son Ryan; I would do the same thing if it was Seth in your position." Sandy stood by his choice.

"Okay." Ryan whispered, "I'll do whatever you think is right." Sandy was so caught up in the fact that Ryan was cooperating, he didn't notice the dead look in the boy's eyes. "Can I go now?" Sandy nodded and Ryan hurried from the room and out to the pool house. There was more that Sandy wanted to talk with Ryan about, but that could wait. Feeling satisfied, Sandy poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down to read the paper.

Out in the pool house, Ryan was pacing and determining whether or not to run. He'd promised the Cohens that he wouldn't, but therapy… He didn't know if he could handle it. Ryan had always prided himself on being tough, but the whole purpose of going to therapy was let some random shrink pry into your mind… Ryan didn't want that to happen to him; he didn't know if he could handle losing his precious privacy. He'd been to a shrink before. They had a shrink at Chino Hills who he'd been forced to see once; that hadn't worked out too well, but he only had to see her once because she'd gotten caught snorting cocaine in her office and she'd been fired. Ryan's mind was his sanctuary; it was reliable, impenetrable, strong, and safe. Ryan had always escaped into his mind when the beatings got too rough; nothing could hurt him if he retreated into his mind. Ryan Atwood did not want to share his mind with another person, but what choice did he have? Sandy had apparently taken responsibility for Ryan's well being; Ryan couldn't say no to the man who'd given him a life. Ryan stopped pacing and sat heavily on the bed. He wouldn't run; he was tough and he could survive anything. After all, no one had told Ryan that he had to fully cooperate with the shrink…

Hmm… there's the new chapter. Hope you had fun reading it… The next chappy is going to cover Ryan's 1st therapy session, so that will be fun to write… hopefully I will have the next one up soon, but if not… sorry. R/R por favor (please)!


	9. Chaper Nine

A/N Thanx 2 all my awesome reviewers! U guyz kick ass! By the way, watch Green Day on the Grammys on the 13th and pick up this month's Rolling Stone! ;)

Chapter Nine

Dearly beloved, are you listening?

I can't remember a word that you were saying,

Are we demented? Or am I disturbed?

The space that's in between insane and insecure

Oh therapy can you please fill the void?

Am I Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?

Nobody's perfect and I stand accused,

For the lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse

-Green Day (Jesus of Suburbia Dearly Beloved)

Two days after his talk with Sandy, Ryan found himself sitting in the waiting room of Doctor Richard Armstrong. Sandy had insisted on accompanying him to the office, which Ryan knew was just a precaution to make sure he actually went. The room was lavishly decorated with black leather chairs, fake ferns, and paintings, and Ryan was beyond uncomfortable; the place even smelled expensive. Sandy and Kirsten were wasting a shit load of money to send him to this guy who Ryan already knew wouldn't help.

"Ryan Atwood?" The receptionist interrupted Ryan's thoughts and led him and Sandy down a short hallway. Holding open a heavy oak door for them, the woman nodded into the first room on the left.

Ryan had been uncomfortable in the waiting room, but that had been nothing compared to the feeling which accompanied him into the actually office. This was going to be his torture chamber, the place when a random shrink would watch his every move, analyze his every word and draw false conclusions about his emotional stability.

"Why don't we sit down Ryan?" Sandy motioned to a couch against the far wall; it was the same black leather as the waiting room chairs. Sandy sat on the couch but Ryan shook his head slowly and settled awkwardly into the chair closest to the door. Ryan's choice of seat was the first thing Sandy noticed that tipped him off that maybe Ryan was upset. He didn't have any time to think about the boy's choice of seat though, because Doctor Richard Armstrong chose that moment to make his entrance.

Doctor Armstrong swept into the room, and not noticing Ryan in the chair, he marched up to Sandy and grasped the man's hand firmly.

"Hello, my name is Richard Armstrong, but you can just call me Richard. I presume that you are Mr. Atwood." His voice was strong and authoritative. Sandy shook Richard's hand, but then nodded at Ryan.

"My name is Sandy Cohen; I'm actually Ryan's guardian. That's Ryan over there." Sandy corrected the man. Richard spun quickly, eyes settling on Ryan, who was glaring at him from the chair.

"Oh, I see." Richard did not seem like a man who was frequently corrected. He shook Ryan's hand quickly before settling down behind his large desk in the corner of the room. Ryan noticed immediately how the man, in his Armani suit and shined shoes seemed to fit in perfectly with the tastefully furnished office; Ryan was already craving a cigarette.

"Since today is our first day, I'm going to ask you a few questions that probably don't seem related to the topic. Is that okay with you Ryan?" The doctor began immediately. Ryan could tell that Richard didn't actually care if it was okay with him or not, so he just shrugged.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Richard started. Ryan relaxed slightly; that was defiantly not a hard question.

"I've got one biological brother and one foster brother." Came the answer.

"Where is you biological brother right now?" Another question.

"Jail." Another answer.

"What about your biological parents? Where are they?" Richard probed. Ryan had accepted his situation by that time, so answering honestly wasn't difficult.

"I don't know where my mom is, but my dad's in jail."

"I see." Ryan noticed Richard writing rapidly on a large pad of paper.

"Are you a virgin Ryan?" Ryan was taken aback by the question.

"Why does it matter?" He challenged the shrink. The man looked up from his writing, looking annoyed that Ryan hadn't simply answered.

"Trust me; every question I ask matters." Richard sighed heavily, "I need you to cooperate with me Ryan. Are you a virgin or not?"

"I'm not." Ryan finally responded. Richard nodded.

"How many sexual partners have you had?" Richard asked another probing question.

"I don't know." Ryan replied. The shrink rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to be embarrassed because there was only one person Ryan."

"There's been more than one person; I just don't remember all of the one night stands." Ryan was getting angry and he answered the question honestly.

"Unmemorable sex? That's unusual. Do you have trouble remembering because it was over so fast?" The shrink pried even further.

"No." Ryan snapped. "I was too stoned or too drunk the remember who half of them were with." Richard raised an eyebrow.

"Any kids of your own?"

"No." Ryan answered quickly. Richard noticed the quick answer, but didn't comment on it.

"I see, I see. Ryan, do you notice any differences in your sexual performance when you're angry or upset?" Richard's pen was poised, ready to write down any observations about Ryan's answer. Sandy raised his eyebrows in shock.

"What the hell kind of a question is that?" Ryan had had enough. "That's none of your fucking business! In fact, none of this is your fucking business." Richard was taken aback, and by the time he'd gotten over his shock, Ryan had already stormed out of the room.

Sandy didn't apologize to the doctor because frankly, he agreed with Ryan that the details of the boy's sexual history shouldn't be important to a psychiatrist. Sandy simply threw a check for the session on the man's desk and followed his foster son out of the room.

Sandy found Ryan sitting on the curb out by the car, smoking a cigarette. He didn't reprimand the boy, instead choosing to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry." Ryan apologized after finishing the cigarette.

"I should be the one apologizing Ryan; I didn't realize that Richard was such an ass. I still want you to try therapy, but I promise that we'll find someone better." Sandy replied. Ryan sighed and standing up, climbed into the passenger seat of the car. Sandy followed the kid into the car, hoping against all hope and the next shrink wasn't as horrible.

A/N Okay, there's the new chapter… please R/R!


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N Thanks so much for the reviews! They really help me with the writing (in fact, bringing Theresa into the story was a reviewer's idea, which I thought was really good…) On with the story…

Chapter Ten

"Hey Ryan… it's me… I know I should have called a few days ago, but I couldn't… Anyway, I hope you're doing okay… I know that this time of year is always hard on you… I'm going to be out in Newport with work for two or three days soon… I don't know the exact date yet, but maybe we can get together then… Call me if you want… You know my number… Bye." Theresa's voice was shaky, but comfortingly familiar; Ryan had already listened to the message three times. He hadn't seen her in a while… ever since Thanksgiving.

It had been two days since the disastrous and slightly perverted therapy experience, but already, Sandy had found another shrink for Ryan to 'try to work with.' Sandy had finally caught onto the idea that Ryan wasn't happy about therapy, but he had refused to back down from his belief that talking to a stranger would help Ryan. Ryan had a session lined up with Dr. Maria Wright for three o'clock that day. He had to leave in ten minutes, but Ryan decided that a short conversation with Theresa could be squeezed into that time period. She had been right; he did know her number by heart and he always had.

The phone rang three times before Carmen Ramirez, Theresa's mother, answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Theresa home?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Ryan."

"Oh, Ryan it's good to hear from you hijo. We've all missed you. I'll get Theresa." Ryan could hear Carmen's muffled voice yelling for Theresa to pick up the phone and a few seconds later, she did.

"Ryan, is that really you?" Were the first words out of her mouth.

"Yeah, it's me. I got your message." There was an awkward pause; there never used to be awkward pauses.

"How are you doing?" Theresa asked after a long moment.

"I'm coping. How are you?" He didn't go into detail.

"I'm the way I was last year and the year before; I'll be okay, but it takes a while." She responded. There was another long pause before Theresa started speaking again.

"What are you not telling me Ryan?" She knew him too well.

"Sandy is making me go to therapy. I was handling it the Chino way, but apparently you can't do that in Newport; I had a temporary melt down and let him read my old journal." Ryan explained reluctantly.

"Oh Ryan… Didn't you explain to him that you don't do therapy?"

"I tried, but he thinks that therapy would be best."

"I'm going to be in Newport this weekend; are you busy?" Theresa changed the subject rapidly.

"No, I always have time for you Theresa."

"I know you do Ryan." She smiled sadly.

"I've got to go; therapy session…" Ryan explained; he could hear Sandy calling him from the main house.

"Okay Ryan; I'll see you this weekend then."

"Bye Theresa." Ryan hung up the phone feeling slightly better. Walking into the house, he met Sandy in the kitchen and together, they climbed into the Range Rover, and drove off to the next 'test session.'

A/N I know that this is really, reallyshort, but I wanted to get the Theresa intro out of the way before I had Ryan meet with a second therapist. (plus, this is my 3rd post today…) R/R please!


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N Hello everyone, it's been a while, but I've been busy… I have a question for you… **Does anyone have the VH1 Behind the Music episode with Green Day?** (It's from like 2 or 3 years ago…) If so, can you somehow get it to me, so I can see it? Thank you.

Chapter Eleven

At the center of the earth,

In the parking lot,

Of the 7-11 where I was taught,

The motto was just a lie

It says: home is where your heart is,

But what a shame,

'Cause everyone's heart,

Doesn't beat the same,

We're beating out of time

City of the dead,

At the end of another lost highway,

Signs misleading to nowhere,

City of the damned,

Lost children with dirty faces today,

No one really seems to care

Green Day (Jesus of Suburbia)

Ryan was feeling almost comfortable in the new shrink's office, which of course made him uncomfortable. The room was nothing like the last office; it seemed safe and friendly, which was why Ryan didn't trust it. Shrinks were not safe and friendly. He hadn't even met 'Doctor Melissa Jensen,' but already, he didn't trust her.

The walls of her office were a pale green color and the large bookcase against the wall held not only psychology books, but also regular books such as Catch 22, which was one of Ryan's favorites. There were two overstuffed chairs and one comfortable looking couch, both a darker green than the walls and the plant in the corner was actually real. There was even a beautiful sketch of a garden hanging on the wall. Sandy was the first to comment on the room.

"Well Ryan, doesn't this office seem better already?" He asked the boy. The questioned remained unanswered because Ryan was not in a talking mood; Sandy got a Ryan Atwood signature glare instead of an answer.

Ryan was not happy. He had agreed to try therapy, but he had only said yes because knew that he had no choice anyway. Sandy was a great man; he'd always been there for Ryan, taking the boy as a juvenile delinquent into his home and practically adopting him. Ryan knew that Sandy cared him, almost as much as he cared for Seth, but that didn't mean that Ryan thought he deserved the affection. Therapy never worked for him; he'd tried it once before, after Janine… after she left. The shrink he'd seen back then had been stupid, assuming that he knew everything that Ryan was thinking and feeling. Ryan had been so upset when he came home after the session, that Arturo and Eddie had offered to hurt the man (Trey had been in Juvie at the time). Ryan was sitting in one of the green chairs, preparing himself for another torture session when the shrink finally made her appearance.

"Hello Ryan, my name is Melissa Jensen." The shrink smiled and extended her hand to shake Ryan's. Ryan held out his hand politely, but didn't even attempt to force a smile. At least this shrink didn't think that he was Sandy. The woman was a tiny brunette of about 24. Her long hair was hastily tied back, but pieces of it kept falling into her face. She wore very little make-up, which Ryan appreciated; too much make-up reminded him of two things: the Newpsies and some of the skanky girls he'd fucked back in Chino after Janine. Unlike the last shrink, who'd been wearing an Armani suit, Doctor Jensen was dressed casually in jeans and a Hurley t-shirt, not your typical work outfit. The woman shook Sandy's hand after Ryan's and then plopped down in the unoccupied chair; Sandy sat on the couch.

"So Ryan, can you tell me why you're here?"

A/N Another short, short chapter, but a small post is better than nothing… R/R please!


	12. Please Read This!

A/N I know that a lot of you have been disappointed with the last two chapters and I'm sorry about that. Those of you who have stories posted know that it's harder than it seems to update frequently and I know that my recent updates have been crappy, but I'm just trying to post as much as possible. Because a lot of you are upset that I left that last chapter hanging, I'm going to write a longer, hopefully better chapter this time, except it might take a while. (I have volleyball 5 days a week and with school I don't have a lot of time on my hands). Thank you all for the reviews; it really helps me to know what you think of my story. I hope that you all enjoy the next chapter when it does get written and posted.

Just for the record, Ryan is not going to hook up with the shrink. I made her so young so she could connect with him and she's probably going to end up having been a victim of abuse. I think it's going to be fun to write that character, but I need help; if anyone has suggestions, please tell me because I do take suggestions seriously.

Also, Kirsten will be in the story most likely, but Summer and Marissa most likely won't be. (if they are, it will be much later).

Thanks!

P.S. Once again, I'm looking for that Green Day "Behind the Music" from like 2001, so if you have it… 


	13. Chapter Twelve

A/N Here's the new chapter. It's not as long as I'd hoped it would be, but I figured that I actually stopped in a decent place this time. I'd like to pose a question. Do you or do you not like the way Sandy's character is acting in this particular story. I'm beginning to dislike his actions myself and I plan on making him more likable as the story goes on, but I'd just like to hear your thoughts. R/R please!

This chapter is dedicated to Steph who suggested that Teresa play a more prominent role in the story. Thanx. ;)

Chapter Twelve

Ryan was seeing the shrink regularly, three times a week. For Sandy's sake, Ryan pretended to be comfortable with therapy; he wasn't. In fact, it pissed him off to no end that the woman thought she knew everything about his life just because she'd read a file on him. She didn't know shit about what his life had been like in Chino and she didn't know shit about how he felt about Janine and the baby.

It made Sandy happy that Ryan was getting something out of the therapy. The boy finally seemed comfortable sharing things about himself with the psychologist. On the third visit, the woman had diagnosed Ryan as clinically depressed. Ryan had laughed at her, but Sandy, though he didn't say anything, agreed with the woman. Ryan had been through too much in his short life to not be depressed. She'd prescribed anti-depressants for the kid. Sandy had secretly been relieved because all he wanted was to see Ryan happy; Ryan, on the other hand was upset.

"You think I'm broken and need to be fixed with drugs?" He'd hissed at the shrink. Sandy had given the boy a sharp look, but being the professional, she'd kept calm.

"Ryan, I think that you're depressed, not broken; the medicine will help you. You'll only take the pills for a few months and by then we'll see how you're doing and probably take you off of them." She explained. Ryan hadn't answered, but the session had been over anyway, so Sandy had taken the prescription from the woman. They'd filled it on the way home. Sandy had supervised Ryan as the boy took the medication, knowing that Ryan would have probably thrown the pill away.

That night, Ryan had voluntarily talked at the dinner table and played video games with Seth after helping to clear the table. Sandy was happy seeing Ryan laugh with Seth. Kirsten was uncomfortable for some reason, but for her husband's sake, she smiled with him.

That weekend, Teresa was in town for work and she stopped by to visit Ryan. He'd laughed happily when he saw her, and when she'd gone to hug him, he'd picked her up and swung her around. That's when she realized that something was wrong. She kept watching him throughout dinner; his carefree smile and unforced small talk just made her more suspicious. The Cohens seemed extraordinarily friendly, but they'd done something to her friend.

It was six pm when Ryan and Sandy had to leave for an appointment with the psychologist Ryan had been seeing. The Cohens had graciously offered Teresa the guestroom for the night, so when Kirsten went to get it ready for her, Teresa offered to help. When they were making the bed, Teresa decided to take advantage of her time with Ryan's new mother.

"What did you do to him?" Teresa asked bluntly. Kirsten was shocked, but quickly regained her composure.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're asking." Kirsten pretended to be oblivious.

"Mrs. Cohen, I know that you and your family took Ryan in when he had nowhere to go." Teresa started, "I know that he cares about you more than he's dared to care about anybody since what happened with Janine. I know that you and your family are good people. I truly respect you, but I've know Ryan longer than you have and I know that you've done something to him."

Kirsten looked down and found that she was nervously twisting the pillowcase in her hands.

"The psychologist prescribed anti-depressants for him. He hasn't complained and he's smiling, so I never said anything, but it feels wrong for some reason." Kirsten confessed to the teenager what she'd refrained from mentioning to her husband. Meeting the girl's eyes, Kirsten was surprised to see fear in them.

"Anti-depressants?" Teresa asked slowly and when Kirsten nodded, Teresa continued. "He can't have anti-depressants… he didn't tell you did he… no, of course he didn't…"

Kirsten was frightened now.

"Tell us what? Teresa, what's wrong with anti-depressants?" The woman asked.

"He disappeared… when the doctors took her body away; he took off and I didn't see him lucid again for weeks. He used so many things to try to make the pain go away… he used everything he could get his hands on. It's a miracle that he didn't overdose. He told me later that nothing worked as well as the anti-depressants… He'd stolen some woman's purse and they were in there, a whole bottle. They made him smile; they made him happy when nothing else could make him happy; they made him forget when nothing else could make him forget. They worked better for him than the pot, and the vodka, and the sex…" Teresa had seen too much in her life to shed tears over the past, but they flowed freely down Kirsten's face.

"Did your husband tell you that Trey had to lock Ryan in the bathroom to keep him away from the drugs. Trey Atwood has always been into the drugs and he recognized that Ryan was going to far. Ryan's going to get addicted to the anti-depressants, just like he did before. He can cope with things better if he does it without pills and without people getting paid to pick apart his brain." Teresa finished.

"But Sandy said that Ryan had no problem with the psychologist… I can't believe that we didn't know about any of this… Thank you." Kirsten hugged the girl. She knew that, despite Teresa's blunt approach to the conversation, the girl was truly offering her help. "What can we do to help him through this… without letting him get drunk or anything like that?"

Teresa thought a moment before she answered.

"Get him a carton of cigarettes and a punching bag and let him know that you're there for him if he needs you; he'll be fine by the time the carton's empty." Kirsten nodded, obviously willing to let Ryan smoke if it would help him.

"He's lucky to have a friend who cares so much about him." Kirsten smiled at Teresa. The girl smiled back.

"He's lucky to have a family who cares about him so much."

The two women finished making the bed together.

That night while they were lying in bed, Kirsten explained Teresa's advice about Ryan to her husband. He, thankfully, didn't say anything until she'd finished, but than, he was full of comments.

"You do realize that she's one of the many girls he slept with after what happened, correct?"

"A carton of cigarettes? We're supposed to be helping him quit, not die of lung cancer."

"She's a teenager, how does she know what's best for him?"

"What if she tries to get him to leave with her?"

Kirsten put up with the rapid fire, rhetorical questions for almost minute before silencing Sandy with a kiss.

"I'm sorry Kirsten, but I'm worried about him."

"I'm worried too Sandy, but I think we should take Teresa's advice; she has known him for years. Plus, as much as I want to see Ryan smiling, I don't want it to be because he's on medication." Kirsten knew she'd won.

"One carton and if it doesn't work, back to therapy." Sandy never had been able to deny his wife anything.

"One carton." Kirsten agreed. Offering up a silent prayer that Teresa's advice would work, Kirsten kissed her husband goodnight and rolled over on her side, promptly falling asleep.

A/N Well there's the new chapter. This one was less involved because I was more concerned with moving the plot along. R/R please!


	14. READ ME!

A/N Well, I'm sorry that I haven't been able to keep up with this story. I don't think that anyone who likes this story should have to be kept waiting by me anymore, so I'm giving away the story… If anyone is interested in taking over this story, please email me at I'm looking for someone who will be able to post chapters regularly. You don't have to be an experienced author. You can have full control of the rest of this story, plus any prequels or sequels you want to write.


End file.
